


I dont like you but

by Beibiter



Category: GOT7, Kpop - Fandom, TWICE - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/F, F/M, Slice of Life, cant really describe it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 09:03:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10273178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beibiter/pseuds/Beibiter
Summary: Mina feels empty and Sana is this pink-haired fairy it's really unfair





	

**Author's Note:**

> Im experimenting with my writing style so dont like dont read

It's this feeling of not being quite there. I'm not an adult yet. Although I waste my youth by pretending I'm mature, I can't fake it that well.

I feel like a fraudster looking at my id. The age... it can't be true.

My friends, they all act like adults. They've all found their place. Chaeyoung cut her hair and dropped out of school to model, Jihyo applied to university, fulfilling her dream of becoming a teacher. 

I feel weird, like the odd one out, the one who hasn't found her place yet. 

I'm still stuck in this void called high school with mindless chatter during the break and teachers droning on and on and I can't seem to find the strength necessary to go.

Life feels empty, like a deflated basketball. I mope, feeling dejected and jaded. I'm bored by everything, especially myself.

When my limbs start hurting, I can hardly get out of bed. I have two weeks of school left and my mother calls a doctor.

*

Sana has pink hair. It looks like Barbie has puked on her, leaving her shoulder-length curls the color of cotton-candy and childhood misery.

Sana is a lot different from me. She's active and outgoing, a true social butterfly and beautiful, too. 

Sometimes we take walks outside and there's always at least one head turning. 

I know, I probably sound jealous. Maybe that's because I am. 

"What are you doing?"

Sana's hands are on my pink diary. She has bought in a disgusting attempt of trying to be friendly.

I snatch it away from her well-manicured, slender fingers and scowl.

"Come on, I'm not trying to steal it..."

Her voice is really sweet. I know, because my mom told me. She loves Sana. I feel like she's not even coming to visit me any more. She's always talking to Sana and Sana does a great job at keeping my mother entertained.

Sometimes, I'm in a good mood and I join them, playing around until my face hurts from smiling so much and then my mom leaves and Sana and I take a walk together and I tell her about all the things I still want to do. I still wanted to do.

I stop writing when I feel a finger pressing against my forehead and look up to meet Sana's eyes. 

She looks expectant, but I still refuse to show her my words. She doesn't need to know.

"Can you help me dye my hair today?", she asks, still looking at me.

Wordlessly, I stare at her pink curls. She plans on dyeing her hair? Again? Does she want to be bold at eighteen?

"Are you stupid? It's just gonna hurt your head", I mutter and she has the audacity to giggle.

Giggling is pretty weird, usually. It's not really laughing, but it isn't anything else either. I've long decided that I like Sana's giggle though, because it sounds like wind chimes.

"Just one last time."

Her voice is not really pleading, but from her tone I realize that she really wants to do it. I don't want to ask why.

"Which color?"

She squeals even though I haven't even said that I'm going to help and grabs my shoulders with excitement. 

"Every color of the rainbow!"

 

*

My head hurts and my throat is dry.

"Mina", he says and I tilt my head slightly so I can see his face. 

He looks handsome, so handsome that maybe if it wasn't for me feeling like I'm slowly dyeing I would have said something.

"You look nice". Something along those lines.

Bambam takes my hand. He knows that I don't like people touching me, yet he still does it. 

His hand feels warm. Maybe it's my hand that is this warm.

When I look into his eyes, I feel like I'm returning to high school and anxiety sets back in. I'm panic-stricken and breathless for a few seconds until I hear an angry voice.

"Stop touching her!"

Sana is uncharacteristically furious. Her eyes seems to blaze and I sink closer into the bed, while Bambam lets go of my hand.

It looks almost comical seeing this midget shouting at a guy much taller than her.

"I'm ok, Sana."

Her eyes soften instantly as she turns toward me and her hand finds mine. At this moment, I'm really thankful.


End file.
